Choices v2
by birdsknight
Summary: Despite Saruhiko's tendency to repeat his past mistakes, Himori can't help but take him back again and again. [Rewritten]


[Since it's been almost two years since I originally wrote it, I wanted to try rewriting this one]

* * *

The alarm clock on the night stand was blinking 3:26 a.m. when the front door finally creaked open, and carefully closed again. Himori could hear keys jingle as they were dropped on the table in the entryway, and he rolled over in bed to the sound of footsteps coming down the hall, his back to the door. A tired sigh came from his superior in the doorway, but Himori gave no response.

Shrugging off his rumpled clothes, Saruhiko let them fall carelessly on the floor before lifting the corner of the sheets and crawling into bed. He curled close to Himori, who tried not to cringe from the now sickeningly familiar smell that clung to his lover.

This was a familiar act of theirs; Himori knew exactly where Saruhiko had been, and what he would see if he turned to look at him. Those tired blue eyes would be filled with regret, his lips swollen and bruised, and the shameful marks and forming bruises covering his neck and shoulders would be identical to those from the last iteration, reaching down to the burnt mark on the younger's collarbone. Himori could already see, in his mind, the angry red scratches, some beginning to scab over, on Saruhiko's back, and the dark bruises on his sides that wouldn't start to fade for several days. He knew the excuses that would come, the same meaningless words Saruhiko dropped and fumbled over with heavy breath every time he came home like this.

At the same time though, Himori couldn't help but be grateful that he _did_ return. He couldn't help but prefer half a night of waiting over being left awake until dawn, knowing that all the while his – lover, friend with benefits, coworker-turned-roommate? – was quite literally sleeping with the enemy.

"I'm sorry, Himori," Saruhiko finally spoke up, his hands icy on the other's shoulder and voice rough and abused for reasons Himori didn't want to – and couldn't help imagining. "I was on patrol, and ran into him."

"It's okay, don't worry about it Saru." Himori didn't bother feigning sleep, when they both knew he always lay awake waiting for the younger's return. It was all he could do just to hope that at the end of the night, when Saruhiko's accidental trysts were over, that he would still find Himori more important than _him_. Not that he always considered the thought very likely; that kid had been Saruhiko's best friend, and possibly more, for a long time, and neither Himori nor Saruhiko had a word to describe their situation.

"It isn't okay," Saruhiko insisted, wrapping an arm around his subordinate and pulling him close in a move that would've been comforting if not for the way it brought that scent even closer, enshrouding Himori. "I know I keep saying I'll stop, but I still keep hurting you. I'm sorr–"

"I said that it's fine, _Saruhiko_," Himori interrupted, pulling the heavy blanket tighter around himself, almost trying to shrink into its warmth and hide his shaking voice. "You should get some sleep already."

"No, it isn't." Himori could hear the scowl in the teenager's voice as he repeated himself. "I'm _trying_ to apologize– Look at me, Himori." Saruhiko grabbed his arm, pulling him onto his back and moving on top of him, their eyes finally meeting. "I'm sorry. I've told you he doesn't mean anything to me anymore, and I care about you no matter what."

With their faces merely centimeters apart, Himori could detect something under the scent of the Red Clan; something that made his heart ache more, and simultaneously threw any meaning to Saruhiko's words away. "You know you're still underage, you shouldn't be drinking," he said quietly, pushing on Saruhiko's chest – careful to avoid touching any of his injuries – to move the dark-haired teen back to his side of the bed before he returned to his earlier position, his back to Saruhiko.

"Damnit, it was a fucking mistake. Let me explain, don't just ignore me!" Saruhiko snapped, sitting up and pulling the blanket away.

"A _mistake_?" Himori repeated, grabbing at the blanket and narrowing his eyes at Saruhiko as his frustration finally boiled over. "Like every other time, is that right? Just a mistake, you happened to run into him and couldn't control yourself, just like last week and every other damn time you two met up to fuck?!"

Silence hung between them for a moment. Saruhiko was stunned; Himori was usually so quiet and well-mannered, the younger's anger fizzled out as he processed it. Releasing the blanket, Saruhiko tangled one hand in his messy hair, the other wrapping one arm around his own torso, almost trying to hold himself together. "I… I know. I keep going back, and breaking my promises to you… I'm sorry, Himori."

Himori's gut twisted at the desperate sincerity cracking Saruhiko's voice, looking down guiltily. "I'm sorry too, Saru," he whispered gently, reaching out and setting a hand on his superior's shoulder and leaning close to try and comfort him with a light kiss on his forehead. "I… I don't hate you, I'm still here. Let's just get some rest," he suggested, gently pulling Saruhiko's glasses off, reaching around him to set the lenses on the bedside table next to the alarm clock, now blinking 3:39 a.m.

Saruhiko sighed dejectedly, unwrapping his arm from around himself and shifting to lay back down. "I don't deserve you," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "You're too damn good, and I'm a broken mess."

Himori couldn't help but agree silently, but said nothing and wrapped an arm around Saruhiko's thin waist, where his skin was usually less marked. Saruhiko's body still twitched slightly at the touch, but he soon relaxed, moving a little closer. "It's all right Saru, I love you," Himori said automatically, an automatic response that he'd just gotten used to repeating over time. He meant the words, as much as he could after being put second in favor of an old clan member time after time.

"Sorry, Himori," Saruhiko repeated again, his voice tired and hollow. Exhaustion from a combination of the day's work as well as his earlier activities finally took their toll on him, letting him slip into unconsciousness after just a few moments.

Himori released a tired sigh when he felt Saruhiko relax, holding him closer and trying to still the thoughts that were still spinning around in his head. "I'm trying to help, Saruhiko…" he whispered, closing his eyes as he tried to ignore the dull ache in his chest; it grew heavier every time they went through this, weighing down Himori's heart.

It was certainly stressful, being in this sort of relationship with Saruhiko, and there were times Himori wasn't sure how long he could withstand the emotional rollercoasters. He reminded himself to savor the small victories though; things like Saruhiko's rare genuine smiles that actually made him look like a teenager for a moment, or how they could alternate who held who at night without any discomfort. Himori's favorite though, was that he was the one that got to wake up next to Saruhiko in the morning.


End file.
